


Fifth Wheel

by NoctaK



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, But Mostly Plot, Chasing, Gore, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, OC, Original Character - Freeform, Rough Oral Sex, Wounds, some sexual content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 11:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21373672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoctaK/pseuds/NoctaK
Summary: ON HOLDSamuel Moore is new in the Entity's realm. He tries his hardest, but most often he fails to stay alive long enough to be of any help to his team. Soon enough, he finds an alternative way to deal with the trials, after his first meeting with the leader of The Legion. Somewhere deep in the fog, his obsession roams, waiting for a chance to strike him down and inflict him as much pain as possible. He has a lot to learn if he wants to leave the trials against other killers alive.
Kudos: 10





	1. The Clearing

_As time went by, Samuel got used to the ever-present darkness and the thickness of the surrounding forest. After all, they were not the worst parts of the Entity’s realm. The clearing with a fire burning in the center turned out to be a safe haven. A pleasant spot, where he could meet his fellow survivors and rest between trials. Space that protected them from the dangers that lived deep within the forest, as well as from the fear of losing your own life. Rather quickly he has learned that there were no threats in this part of the realm. Those, who spent the longest time in this place informed Sam that they were never attacked by any of the killers whilst resting in the clearing. Never even saw any of the creatures, that just like them were prisoners of this sick and possibly never-ending game. _

_They have all lost the track of time in the fog. Those, who arrived here first did not even know how much time has passed since they entered their first trial. They missed parts of their memories from the time before the endless massacre. Some were even unable to say what year it was when they got dragged into the fog. Often the flashes of one’s life did not fit with another’s. As if they came from different worlds or alternative universes of the same one. However, to them, it did not matter. They were going to stay here with no chance of escape and their past did not mean a thing. Even if they committed some form of offense that piqued the Entity’s interest, it was irrelevant. This was not like being imprisoned. There was no set time to serve. There was no end to the tortures they had to face._

A hard slap to my back woke me up from my daydream, as the strength behind it caused my chest to meet my knees. I straightened my back and looked at David, who sat down next to me. His face and shirt had splatters of red, although his wounds were already gone. Only a few rips in his clothes shown where the assailant hit. It was obvious that his trial did not go well, and he was the first to return. It could only mean a quick death. A blessing to some and a chance for me. After all, we have not seen each other for a long time, constantly being dragged into a trial, whilst the other remained at the fire. Due to this, we had no chance to exchange even a couple of words.

— Yer gettin’ better at teh shit we’re forced t’do — he said in his raspy voice. – But yer still bad at gettin’ the killer’s attention.

— Really, that is the first thing you have to say to me?

A soft smile crept on my face, as he slightly brightened my mood. I did not feel humiliated by his words. I knew that he did not mean it in the wrong way and that it was his form of constructive criticism. I took it on board and watched as the British man placed his shirt on the log. It did not surprise me. I was used to seeing him present his well build chest even during trials. I never asked why he chose to dress (or rather undress) this way, but I also never felt the need to do so.

— Last time I saw ye, we were both bein’ butchered so I didn’ have a chance to say it. Just don’ try to alert the killer of yer presence, alright? Yer much better at the gens, then runnin’ on those skinny legs of yours.

I nodded, knowing full well that he was right, as whenever I was in a chase, I panicked too much, lost my head and made dumb mistakes, like dragging the killer to where a group of my friends were working on a generator. I was also slow and quickly got out of breath. But during the last trial, the one that David spoke of, I HAD to take the risk. I had to drag the killer away from Claudette, who was finishing the last generator. This stupid-brave act lead to my death on the hook, but an escape for the other two remaining survivors.

— Your small enough, that most of the killers just don’t notice you — claimed Dwight, possibly trying to praise me. Well, nothing like a praise from the master of the lockers.

— We are of similar builds — I answered, but I was not too sure of my words. Not that I was unable to determine if we were or were not of similar build. The topic of our little conversation reminded me that I was not doing good enough. Everyone was good at something, whilst I lacked the strong build that David had, the speed of Meg, the botanical skills of Claudette or even leadership skills that Dwight offered. Everyone was good at something and I just felt like the fifth wheel. Pointless.

— Hey, Sammy – Kate began carefully. – Chin up. Don’ take is as somethin’ bad. It’s good that you’r able to jus’, you know, disappear into the background. At least you can work on gens in peace. Runnin’ the killers around, that you can improve with time. Jus’ make sure you know how to run away when the situation gets rough.

— I know… But not everyone shares your views – I gave a sight and dropped my head slightly. – Bill says that I am just a coward who worries only about myself.

I remembered the time when Bill caught me after a trial and begun to shout that I preferred to hide in the bushes, rather than to save him. That I was waiting for his death, and in turn, waiting for the easier way of escape to open. I would say the amount of fear I felt then was almost as equal, as when I was grabbed by one of the killers. I was sure at the time that he was going to punch me and even though he might be an old man, he sure knows how to land a good punch. But he left it at that, and his words led to more mistakes on my part. Especially when it came to me running for the hook, the moment somebody was hanged, even when there were no chances of me saving them.

— Bill is old n’ a past military at that. Don’ be surprised that he acts the way he does. Maybe it’s cus the last time he was left by himself, he ended up in’ere.

I think she was still trying to cheer me up. It was kind of her and to be honest, it did partially work. It was also the first time I found out something about Bill. As a group, we have never openly spoke about our past lives. Any time we touched the topic, even in the slightest, it just brought pain or anger. Knowledge that we will never go back to how it was and that we will stay in this nightmare was suffocating. We did not need to scratch more at those wounds. But sometimes on rare occasions, some people just needed to share their past. And they have only done it either when they came back from their first trial, when they were not in the right state of mind or to only one person that they trusted. And currently, I was still new and have not formed any deep bonds. So, I smiled at Kate, being thankful for her kindness.

— Thank you, Kate. I will focus on the generators next time.

— Atta boy — she smiled brightly.

— Oy, Kate. Play something, will you — Ace said with an ever-present grin on his face.

He was sitting on the other side and shuffling the deck in his hand. His long fingers barely brushed the cards, as they moved around with ease. It showed just how much time he spent playing in the past, but his gambling behavior did not end even in the fog. Every time he managed to convince someone to play with him, he beamed brightly and played a simple game or two, where he gave the win to his opponent. He always praised them, like a parent would praise their child. Said how good they are and that maybe they would like to test their luck. See whether they would win again, but to make it more interesting, he would offer something as a reward. He told the person playing with him to do the same. “The winner takes all!” he would happily exclaim, whilst shuffling those cards, and people fell for it. Medical kits, toolboxes, and other items, as well as personal belongings, were quickly lost to Ace. Hell, I risked it myself and now he wore my leather strap wristwatch. I was not mad about it, it was my own fault after all, but I still felt naked without anything on my wrist. It taught me to never play against Ace again if there were any “prizes” involved.

My gaze shifted back to out “songbird”, a nickname given to her by some of the survivors. Enthusiastically she walked over to her guitar and now was holding it in her hands. She began to play a soft melody and soon enough her soothing voice took over the clearing. All of the conversations died down and everyone focused their eyes on her. Her songs relaxed any tension and even cheered some people up, lifting the negative mood. Her songs were also one of a few entertainments and the only source of music available in the Entity’s realm. Other survivors were glad that she has joined them.

Suddenly, with the corned of my eye, I caught a movement in the forest. Maybe it was only my imagination since when I looked straight in that direction, there was nothing to be seen apart from the swirling fog in between the trees. I slowly rose from where I sat on the log and walked over to the edge of the clearing. Even if there was something within the forest, I could not see it from where I stood. However, I did not want to risk a walk between the trees just to feed my curiosity. If it was a survivor, they would enter the clearing themselves. If not, it was probably only baiting me to leave the safety of the fire. The thought caused my heart to beat faster, but it was not like when the killer approached. It was a pure feeling of insecurity. What if we were led to believe that the clearing is safe, only to attack at the most peaceful of times when we would be unable to react in time? Hopefully, it was just paranoid thinking and nothing else.

I was no longer feeling safe so close to the forest’s edge and I did not want to stay away from the other survivors. The feeling that something was wrong still lingered at the back of my brain and yet I slowly returned to the fire, to sit in my usual spot on the log. I rested my arms on my thighs and allowed my head to drop slightly, trying to concentrate on the song rather than any intrusive thoughts that I had. Then, before Kate managed to finish her second song, the remaining three survivors came out of the forest and into the clearing.

— We did it… — Quentin gave a sigh of relief and dropped to the ground by one of the logs.

He looked shattered, but did he ever look any different? No matter how tired he was, he did not attempt to rest. To sleep. I could not be surprised and felt bad for the kid. He was not much younger than I was and yet, even before this shit hole, he fought the very killer that now stalked us all in trials. I was surprised he did not go mad. Surprised that we all kept our sanity in check, considering what all of us were going through.

— What?! — David jumped to his feet obviously not impressed with their success. – How in the fuck did ye manage to fuck yer way outta there?! I fuckin’ died at teh very start, and ye just tangoed thru’ the gates?!

— After you allowed the killer to hang you the second time, Nea kept the Trapper busy for long enough to finish the gens – Quentin gave an explanation, not even looking at David. – She rotated with Bill.

— And she couldn’t’ve done it earlier, couldn’t she — the brawler snarled, looking Nea straight in the eyes.

Another swirl in the fog turned my attention away from the argument. I looked again towards the part of the forest that caught my eye earlier and again there was nothing to be seen. The movements made me far more worried, than the increasing tension between Nea and David. They had Claudette to intervene, but who did we have if anything rushed out from the darkness of the forest? I nearly jumped, as the sudden flicker of gold blocked my vision. It was accompanied by fog, which slowly crept up my body and forced me to seize my worries.

_So, it is my turn_, I thought as the voices of my fellow survivors grew further. I felt the chill creep up my spine, as the warmth of the fire was taken away. I did not feel ready. But did anybody ever feel any other way, as they entered the unknown?


	2. One Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small introduction to the rules of trials for those who might not be aware of them. I will try to keep away from basic plot of a full trial in the future, but for now you can enjoy some play-time with the Trapper. Obviously description of wounds, chasing and blood will be included, so you have been warned!

_The fog slowly dissolved around the journalist revealing the Yamaoka Estate. Samuel liked the Spirit’s realm, as he found it the calmest out of them all. It almost looked real, since its structure was that of a slightly overgrown garden. As if the owners of the manor abandoned it for one reason or another and allowed nature to take over. Occasional piles of wood and shoji littered the area, similarly to rotten skeletons of smaller buildings that formed roofless structures. The sound of bamboo and wind chimes rocked by nonexistent breeze sporadically broke the silence. Of course, there was no wind to move any of those objects, as the realms rarely experienced any weather change, but Sam found the sounds peaceful rather than eerie. _

_The Asian style garden not only looked peaceful, but it also offered multiple hiding spots. Sometimes it was enough to jump in between the bamboo stems and try not to move. Not to breath even. The task was often easy if one was not hurt. Otherwise, the grunts of pain would travel far in the silent night. At that point, your only hope would be for the other survivors to finish or blow up a generator and shift the attention of the killer away from your hiding position. To those beasts, any form of sound in this soundless environment could only mean the presence of their pray._

_The most common sounds in the realms were the footsteps of the killers, the heartbeat as they approached, sounds of nature disturbed by both the survivors and the killer alike, generators coming to life and exploding from mistakes, as well as the screams of pain. Every survivor dreaded the latter. As much as one would hate to hear the creatures approach them, hearing another member of their team get struck down was far worse. It could only mean that either they will soon be hooked or that they already have been hanged from the meat hook. Others had to stop their work on the generators and save their companion. After all, their strength laid in numbers. It was their only realistic chance of escape. One mistake was all it took to take that chance away._

A sudden scream made me pull the cables too hard. The rushed action caused sparks and some form of smoke to come out of the generator. I jumped back and held up my arms to shield my face from the burning particles. The killer was now aware of my location, but his focus was on the person they hit. Judging by the voice, it had to be Feng. I decided to take the possible risk and continue my work on the machine. The petit girl was good at distracting the killers. It often felt as if the trials were a game to her. I knew that I would be able to complete my work before she was downed. And as I thought, a generator later, I heard a snap of the bear trap indicating that the young female was caught and currently carried to a hook.

These small hints in the form of different sounds often revealed the identity of the killer. Now aware that we faced the Trapper, I had to watch my step as one of my special abilities was locating his traps with the use of my legs. And so, I walked away from the location of the screams and instead tried to find another of the generators. It felt wrong to do so, but the previous conversation from the fire kept my spirit up. I was doing the right thing. Others could save Feng since she was currently the only one hooked. Saving people, occupying the killer, repairing the generators. All three tasks were equally important. I was not running away, I was helping.

Regardless of my optimism, I still stayed away from the manor. I walked around it to the other side where another of the generators stood. I opened the small metal plate that hid away the insides of the machine and looked at the mess inside. As I began working, not a single mistake was made. All the cables and parts were slowly moved to their right positions. I looked away from what I was doing and ensured that the killer was not approaching. That is when I saw Jake slowly join me. He placed his toolbox on the grass and gave me nothing more than a short look before using his tools to organize the other side of the machine. It made me wonder if leaving Feng was the right decision after all.

I wished I could just ask him who the fourth member was to make sure that they were able to help the captured female. Lack of speech was one of the rules I learned since entering the fog. Any noises, including our voices, traveled long distances and sparked the attention of the killer. A lot of those creatures specialized in the hunt and were able to locate us by our breathing alone if they were close enough. This was no place for chatter.

I stopped my work and stood up to focus on the location where I first heard Feng’s pained scream. Over at the other end of the map, I could see the aura of the female survivor still hanging from the hook. I looked away, to glance at Jake who paid me no attention. I nodded to myself and took a deep breath. _Here I go making another mistake_, I thought and left the generator. I started sprinting in Feng’s direction aware that she does not have a lot of time before the Entities’ crab-like legs would part the sky and come down to collect her. At the same time, I was constantly on the lookout for the killer and his traps. I maneuvered around any tall grass and kept away from the windows. I was not going to take any pointless risks. Not just yet, at least.

And then I heard it. The heartbeat. It was growing louder in my ears and caused me to stop dead in my tracks. _Did he see me? Did he know I was here?_ I looked around and saw that the bulky killer dressed in green rubber overalls was currently busy with Ace. Although older than me, the gambler managed to evade the killer’s hit with ease by vaulting through a window. They were now coming straight towards me and my only option was to hide behind a short wall. I made a few steps back and passed through the opening to quickly crouch down. The sound of a fixed generator covered any other sounds. But the Trapper was much more focused on the prey he was currently chasing, and the sight gave me a glimpse of hope. I could do this after all.

A few seconds later I was standing in front of the hooked survivor. As soon as I reached my hands towards her, the black legs disappeared, and Feng no longer had to fight for her life. She looked at me with slight annoyance in her eyes. It spoke of the frustration she must have felt for staying on the hook for so long. Sweat dripped down her face and she had a slight difficulty easing her breath. The petit survivor spat out some blood and took her hand away from her chest, revealing the wound left by the hook. It was the only wound that would slowly heal by itself and could be ignored.

I took out a bandage from my pocket and Feng slightly lifted her upper garment giving me easier access to the deep slash on her side. In the real world, this would mean death from pain or blood loss. In here it only meant pain and discomfort. Bandaging it up was all it took to provide relief. As soon as any form of medical aid was given to the survivor, the wounds dealt by a killer would close by themselves at a faster or slower pace, depending on what you would use.

Feng did not waste a single moment. As soon as I tied the ends of the material, she lowered her shirt and dashed towards the area where we heard Ace’s pained scream not too long ago. I was left all alone and it was not hard to decide what I should do next. If I counted correctly, only two more generators needed repairs. Jake had most likely already started working on a new machine, meaning that if I could repair the closest one that I could find, we could all leave before any of us were sacrificed. If I remembered correctly, the closest one from this position was within the “Killer’s shack”.

My thoughts quickly shifted from a generator to the small decaying construction that housed it. Its two exits and a single window created an advantage point to survivors if used correctly, especially as it was located close to the exit gate. At the same time, The Trapper was an experienced killer and was fully aware of the shack’s strength. There was no doubt that at least one trap was placed in the building’s proximity. Finding it became my new priority.

As I walked towards the old construction, I realized that I was lucky this trial and not once did the metal teeth bit into my flesh. I hoped to keep it that way and I was careful when checking over the patch beneath the window. I found no traps within the dark grass and I so I could lift my eyes from the ground. As I looked through the window, I saw sparks come off the silently humming generator. It was worked on previously, but the killer killed the progress. This further ensured me, that the Trapper was here and that he must have left something behind.

I walked around the outer wall and checked another patch that was located next to the door. There I saw a glimmer of metal, as the moonlight reflected in the trap. I would surely step into it if I would simply hurry into the grass. It was something I had to get rid of as soon as possible and there was only one way to do so. I sometimes saw others reach into those metal teeth and bravely press the pressure plate before hastily removing their arm. I was not sure if I was ready to do the same, but at the same time, I had no choice. I scanned the area around me in hopes to find any loose debris: A piece of wood, a stick. Anything would do, but even the mess was tidy in the Entity’s realm. Nothing was out of its place, even if it looked that way at first glimpse.

I took a couple of deep breaths, getting ready for the investable. Slowly I reached towards the center of the trap and licked my dry lips. It was supposed to be a fast movement. In and out. That was all it took. Any sort of noise was muted, as my focus fully rested on the pressure plate. A rapid push forward and then I quickly pulled out my hand. Close by, a small group of startled crows jumped into flight when the silence was broken by two sounds - the snap of the trap and my own agonized scream. I bit into my left hand to muffle the noise.

Hot tears dripped down my face and I stared in disbelief at what was left of my shaking hand. I was missing four of my fingers, together with half of my palm. It hurt. It hurt like hell and the blood just poured down my arm. I was frozen still, my body only capable of producing sounds of pain. I felt my heart racing and at first, I thought that the heartbeat in my ears was only caused by the adrenaline. Then he came into view. The Trapper attracted by the sound of his trap closing. A hunter approaching his prey. His grip on the cleaver’s handle tightened and the bloody blade glistened in the moonlight. It was a soundless threat that worked. I felt fear mix in with the pain, causing my stomach to turn. Its contents rose to my throat barely staying inside of my body.

A small voice in my head appeared and its message was simple. _Run_. I followed its advice and entered the shack. There was not much I could do to escape with my wounded limb tightly pressed into my chest. I could also no longer fix the generators, the only thing I was usually capable of doing. I could only keep the killer occupied for as long as possible. Even seconds possibly meant the difference between life and death of my team.

I saw dark spots dance in front of my eyes, as I ran around the outer wall. I stopped to check on the location of the killer and then I heard it. He was opening his trap anew. At that point I had to make a quick decision: Leave the shack and run for the open or stay at this weakened location. Neither of those options felt good and I leaned against the wall to ease the dizziness. At this point, I just wanted to give up. Let him catch me, but it was not how this game worked. I could not give up. I had to attempt the impossible.

The masked killer patiently walked around the shack and forced me to enter it once more. The bear trap was now placed right in the doorway, leaving me only with the window to escape. Of course, I took it like an idiot. I tried to pass it as quick as possible but faced a problem. The fast vault required the use of both hands and currently, I had only one. Hopes did not change the laws of physics and I hit the ground. The impact forced out a new grunt of pain, but at least the blade missed my flesh and hit the wood splinting it in the process.

The rapid movement of standing up, a short sprint and the blood loss caused my head to spin wildly. I staggered and fell after a couple more steps. I tried to break the fall with both of my hands which was a mistake. The renewed pain made me scream again and more blood spilled onto the ground. Another push lifted me to a kneeling position and the next step was to stand up, but I landed back on all fours. I could hear the killer moving closer. A new attempt to stand up brought the same outcome. I felt defeated. There was no point in praying for someone to save me. The only “god” in this world was the being that brought us here. The one that fed off our fear and our death. I felt my lip quiver and I brought my head closer toward my body, holding it in between my arms. I could not do it. I could not make it out after all. I was not capable even of running away, let alone standing up.

The killer's hand pulled my body up with ease and he threw me over his muscular arm. I looked at the ground beneath us and felt my body rise and fall with every breath that the Trapper took. His breathing sounded inhuman. His body trembled with the rush of adrenaline brought by the ability to carry his victim to their death. My death. I did not try to escape. I did not fight, as there was no point. I allowed the killer to carry me to the basement and hang me from the meat hook. The foreign object made it difficult for my lungs to expand. By now I could barely focus on what was directly in front of me. The image of the Trapper was blurry to the point that I could only see smudges of colors. I could see him moving away and wanted to follow him with my gaze. Lifting my eyes too high caused a sharp pain in the back of my skull, so I forced my head up ever so slightly. It was difficult, but it allowed me to see the killer bending down. There was a click of his trap and I knew he was hoping to catch the others in their attempt to save me.

My head fell back down, and I saw an increasing pool of blood beneath my body. I gave a short chuckle, but it turned into a painful cough. I was too sure of myself. I made a mistake and now I was paying for it. But somehow, I did not feel bad about it. I could use it as a learning experience, right? I now knew NOT to touch the fucking bear traps. I also caused the Trapper to waste some time, did I not? Now all that was left, was to allow the Entity to take me before anybody could even think of attempting a save. They would risk too much and running out of a trapped basement was close to impossible.

When the Entity’s legs materialized from the ceiling and surrounded my body, I weakly tried to hold onto it with my only good hand. I heard another of the generators come to life and for a second I felt like fighting back. The movements of the unknown being stopped, and it made me feel like I would manage to fight it off. I quickly realized that it was simply a show to toy with me. The longest of the limbs pulled back and then pierced my body with full force. The final sound I heard was the blare of the last generator powering up the exit gates.

The dark void I was forced into did not bring peace. I felt my body slowly ripped to pieces. I broke into nothing, without the ability to even scream.

It was not the hit of the killer or the piercing of the hook that was the most painful.

The worst was the feeling of the Entity feeding on your very core.


	3. Alternative escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> — Took you some time – the killer teased, his voice partially muffled by his ever-present accessory. It was the first time I ever heard a killer speak. I knew his voice from the little sounds he made during trials, but I never heard him form any words. I often wondered if they were even capable of speech, considering their inhuman bodies and minds. — You can have the hatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I have not posted for two months now, I have decided to write a double chapter so it is quite chunky. Hope you will enjoy it. I would also like to dedicate this chapter to my best friend (you know who you are : D ) for keeping me motivated whilst writing this chapter.
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains description of a sexual act between two males. I have made it obvious when that part is about to start, so you may read this chapter without wory of accidentally entering it. Once you reach that point, you can press ctrl + f and paste in [NSFW part ends here] to get to the end of that section.

_The process of awakening after one’s death was always disorienting. At first, the survivor was captured by an overwhelming apathy. They would simply lie in the cold dirt, watching the dark fog swirl and dance in front of them. Next came the confusion, greater than when they entered the fog for the first time. Their paralyzed bodies suddenly burned with pain, as the Entity finished taking care of any wounds sustained during the trial. At that point the darkness often played with their frayed minds, giving visions of movement just between the trees where it was harder to see. _

_Or maybe it was more than just hallucinations. Maybe it was something far worse than the killers. Something attracted by their weakened state. What would happen if one would die too often? Would it come closer to eventually feed on their bodies and souls? _

_Nobody wanted to find out._

_As soon as one regained control over their body, they would attempt to move. Depending on the level of paranoia and severity of their wounds, they would either crawl, walk or run. They felt the need to stay in motion as if that was the only way to keep safe. No matter how headstrong the individual was, fear always took control. The need to end their solitude drove them back towards the camp and to the safety of the flames._

I twisted to the side and spat out blood that pooled in my mouth. The metallic taste was no longer foreign, yet still unpleasant. The haze that clouded my mind was slowly passing, but in its place, I felt the fire of fear lit up. It forced me to stand up, even though it was not long since my wounds closed and my hand regenerated. 

The sudden movement turned out to be a mistake and I fell to my hands and knees, as I vomited pure bile. It was so long since the last time I ate, that I had no chance to throw back anything else. My throat burned, adding to the symphony of discomfort. And yet that unpleasant feeling was nothing compared to the phantom pain in my palm.

A deep breath in through the nose and out through my mouth. In through the nose and out through my mouth. I spat again onto the ground and lifted my body to a kneeling position. _In and out_. I told myself, focusing on my breathing. I had no time to just sit around, but my body begged for even a second more of rest. A second that I had to give if I hoped for its cooperation. 

In through the nose and out through my mouth. One leg out from underneath my body. My foot on the ground and next to it my palm. I allowed myself to slowly rise halfway up, before closing my eyes again in a wave of nausea. _In and out_. I heard an annoying ringing in my ears, that almost covered up the sound of my thoughts. 

In through the nose and out through my mouth. My hand now barely throbbed with the memory of pain. My back still stung with every breath, although there was no sign of the past wound. Only the attacks that took out lives were the ones that would leave scars behind. The Moris. 

I finally stood up and started to walk at a slow pace, too afraid that increased effort would force me back to the ground. I took no specific route, as the forest never had any specific directions, no natural indicators of where one was or which way to go. You just had to keep on walking and could either reach your destination or sometimes end up somewhere else. It depended only on the will of the being that ruled over this world. The only thing I wanted was to regain the feeling of safety, as I constantly watched my surroundings. I heard from the other survivors how they sometimes returned from the dead only to come across another killer in the forest. It was a gamble, but movement was much safer than just standing still. 

Instinctively I held my side, even though I no longer suffered from any wounds. It was stronger than me and provided some form of relief. With my free hand, I pushed away any branches of the tall bushes that stood in my way and continued to move through the dark forest. Although the overhead tree branches blocked out most of the sky, the forest floor was slightly lit up as if from the light of a full moon. It was not enough to allow me to see far ahead, but it meant that I would not trip up over any irregularities in the ground. It was one of the few things provided by the Entity that I could be thankful for.

I jumped, as something shifted in the dark once more. I looked towards it only for a short moment, before bursting into a sprint like a startled deer. Whatever it was, it was not there to help me find my way. But did I even see a creature or was it plainly a bush or a tree? I could not tell.

A twig snapped close by. It was drawing near, was it not? Panic took over my brain and my lungs stung desperate for a break. This time I did not listen to my body. Out, I had to get out! The fire was the only safe place in this forest. 

Something glistered between the trees to my side. Oh God, was that a knife? Was I getting paranoid or did I really encounter one of the beasts that came out for a hunt? 

A branch hit my face, cutting into my cheek in the process, but I could not care about such a trivial wound when my life was at stake. Not when I finally saw a spark of light in the distance ahead. I did not even bother with wiping off the small droplets of blood that formed on my broken skin. It almost felt like being in the final chase of the trial, with the hum of the hatch close by. I just had to push myself a little more, just keep on running ahead.

I felt a hand brush against my back. Was it trying to grab me or was it all in my head? I could be going crazy, but I did not dare to look back to confirm. I had to maneuver around the trunks and watch out for any obstacles that scattered the ground in the form of fallen branches and holes.

I noticed the tiny spot of light. It grew until it was framed between only two more trees. I nearly threw my body forward, afraid that whatever was chasing me would grab and pull me back into the darkness. Possibly cover my mouth, so I could not scream to alert the others. But even if I screamed, would there be anything for them to do to save me? 

I felt like I would collapse to the ground, but instead, I bent forward to rest my palms on my knees. I was panting heavily, my hair uncomfortably stuck to my face from the sweat and my eyes opened wide in fear. I finally brought myself to look over my shoulder, but the darkness did not reveal anything unusual. It either moved away or was purely in my head. I was unsure which option was more frightening.

— Samuel are you alright?! — I heard Claudette’s concerned voice as she jogged over to where I stood. She hastily inspected my body and noticed only the cut on my face, whilst I still looked between the two trees I came through. Noticing the blood on my cheek, she used the sleeve of her coat to wipe it off. 

I finally moved my focus away from the forest and towards the survivor standing in front of me. Tension was slowly leaving my body and my muscles relaxed. I was here, I was safe. Looking over Claudette’s shoulder I saw David, who barely stood up from his sitting position. I knew that was ready to run over if the need arose. Shifting my gaze, I saw the faces of others, all waiting for my answer. They were distressed by my sudden entrance, unaware of what danger possibly lurked past the edge of the forest.

— Yes… I just… — I found it difficult to speak the obvious words. My throat suddenly dry from more than just the effort. I was no longer sure if I was truly chased or was it just the constant stress affecting my mind. It had to be the latter because otherwise, I would be dead. Right? — S-sorry for scaring you. I am fine now. I just thought-

— It’s okay. I know. 

Her delicate tone made me feel better. Previously I was concerned about being laughed at, but after the simple reply, I knew that most, if not all of us must have had a similar experience. The realm played with our mangled minds and it was not anything to be ashamed of. There was no way to fight it. It was how the Entity made it.

— Come sit at the fire with us. I just made some tea, it will calm you down — she looked towards the ground as she spoke. As always, she had difficulty keeping eye contact for long.

— Thank you, Claudette — I replied, slowly catching my breath.

I followed the botanist back to the fire, where David was already back to his seating position and talking to Kate. All the other conversations also continued, when the group realized that there are no dangers coming. I was grateful that nobody kept their focus on me and that no further questions were asked. As soon as I sat down on the log Claudette passed me a metal cup filled with her special herbal tea.

— If you need anything, even if just to talk, then tell me.

— Of course, thank you again — I sipped the tea and allowed it to warm up my body. Claudette returned to her flowers and herbs, leaving some by the fire to dry. Their smell hit my nose and sunk deep providing closure. I took a deep sigh but still looked towards the forest one more time. 

There was nothing there.

Now, I only hoped for some peace and time to pick myself back together. Of course, what I hoped for, was rarely what I got. Seeing Nea walk over and sit down next to me on the log spoke of trouble. My hold on the cup tightened. It appeared that there would be questions after all.

— Didn't go too well, did it?

— I don't want to talk about it — my reply was grim. 

— That bad? — she continued with her questioning, although she knew the answers. She just chose to push me for no apparent reason.

— It could be worse — I shrugged and looked away. My gaze landed back on the liquid within the cup, its contents suddenly sour and uninviting.

— You looked like you're about to cry. Could it really be worse?

— Oy, stop mithering the lad — came David's angry tone before I managed to even think of a reply.

— What are you even, a knight in shining armor? I'm sure he can speak for himself.

I felt the atmosphere thicken. Nea tended to tease and poke at others. David, on the other hand, was the protective one. He also liked to joke around, but he did so with consideration. Whilst Nea did not mind people becoming upset over her jokes, David was more careful with his words. Normally I would most likely be thankful for his interference. This time however I was worried about them starting a fight at my fault. Considering how we all were constantly on edge, it was easy to spark conflict.

— It is fine. I am fine. Can we just ignore what happened and just stick to our previous business? — my tone was somewhat angry, but my gaze remained on the tea. — I died and then I thought someone was in the woods with me. That is all. Nothing as exciting as to try and ask so much about it.

It was with the last words that I finally gained the courage to look up at Nea. She groaned and rolled her eyes, then stood up as quickly as she previously sat down and murmured "you are no fun" under her breath. A sharp exhale left my mouth, as I calmed down. I gripped the cup in one hand and with the other, I rubbed my forehead. I felt tired. My body may have returned to its original state, but my mind remained the same. Overworked with stress where even sleep was of no help. Especially when you could fall asleep at the fire, only to wake up in a trial.

— Alright, now that teh snide hag is out of way, move yer arse and come over ‘ere.

It appeared that David was not done just yet. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow not really understanding the meaning of his words. A simple "come on then" forced me to stand up with a soft groan. I hoped for rest, not this, whatever it was. 

— Put yer mug down. Y'don' need it. 

This certainly did not ease my mind, but at the same time, I could not bring myself to ask him what all of this was about. I drank my tea in two gulps and set the cup to the side. I allowed David to lead me slightly away from the fire and into the open space. I felt some people watch us and the knot in my stomach only tightened. 

— Arms up and pick up the pace — he explained, as he widened his stance and brought his arms up to shield his face. He was ready for a fight, but I was not.

— David, I cannot fight. You know that.

— Yeah, that's why I'm teachin' ya — he sounded impatient as if his words were obvious and I should have understood his intentions. — Now move or I’ll punch yer kisser.

— What am I even supposed to do?

In a reply, he pushed his fist forward and struck my nose. It hurt and made my eyes water. I brought my hands to rub it and turned away from my attacker. The punch was not hard enough to do any good damage, but my face ached nonetheless. David did not intend to apologize for his actions. With a quick move, he brought me to the ground and stood over my body. I expected another punch and this time I shielded my face. 

— Good. Now yer doin' it. — He sounded pleased and his tone confused me. Warily I moved my arms away to look up at him. He bore a grin and stretched his arm towards me, offering help with getting up. I took on his offer and he pulled me back to my feet. — Runnin' is not all. Yer might not be able to knock 'em down, but ye can move out of the blade's way. Jus' need to practice, to gain the right responses.

I wiped my tears away suddenly understanding what he meant. He was not trying to fight with me or hurt me. He simply wanted to train me. To teach me how to survive longer. He was right. In the moment of danger running was my sole response. I did not think of anything else, other than to just get away. Pallets and windows were not the only means to prolong the chase. If you were able to evade the hit in the first place, everything else became a simple addition. Was I truly able to learn this skill?

— So, how do I do it? Are there like a set of things I must learn? 

— Yer overthinin'. Jus' move. And watch teh opponent. How are ya supposed t'know where the attack is comin' from when ya only show yer back?

— So, you expect me to just stand in front of the killer? — I was confused with his words.

— Nah! Obviously not! — it was his turn to not understand the thinking process of who he spoke with. — Fer now focus 'bout standin'. When yer better, then y'will mix it in with runnin'. 

Currently, the task sounded overwhelming. How could I run, look over my shoulder and even attempt to evade the hit? It felt impossible and yet I knew it was real. I saw it happen in the past. I think it was Meg that dodged one of the Wraith's attacks. It was fascinating to see that with my own eyes. Her agility was incredible and so were her skills at occupying the killer. I could not even hope to be as good as her, but if I could learn to break the killer's line of sight and quickly return to a generator, that would be good enough.

David once more took on the fighting stance and slowly begun moving his fist towards me. It was not a real attack, it was a demonstration of a possible incoming blow.

— How would ye dodge it?

— Ugh… Ducking? 

He hit me lightly on my cheek and my only reaction was to brush the pain away. Looks like that was not the answer he was looking for.

— Will ye say to teh killer whatcha gonna do? Or are ya gonna do teh move? Again!

Once more his fist was moving at a slow pace towards my face. This time I took an awkward step back thinking about how stupid I must look. Was this even helping?

— Good. Yer startin' t'do things. Don' worry 'bout what it looks like fer now. Jus' get used to movement.

It was almost as if he had read my mind. Maybe he could see how stressed I was through my body language. He was surprisingly good at reading others, a skill that I often lacked. I took in a deep breath and let the worry leave with an exhale. Another punch that I tried to avoid through moving backward. At that point, David told me to try and be more creative. Come up with different moves. He allowed me a bit more time to think about it and I ducked. The sudden movement made my muscles ache and I groaned sitting down onto the ground.

— Don' be a wuss. Ye wouldn' do that with teh killer now would ya?

— It is just the constant crouching at the generators. My muscles are not used to that kind of effort — I tried to explain, but it appeared that to David it was just an excuse.

— Then get better. That ain't hapenin' whilst sittin' down. 

Somehow, I felt the ping of guilt light up. Since coming to the realm, I spent most of my time feeling sorry for myself or scared with the thought of another trial. But was it not the same for others? Nobody wanted to be here. Nobody felt safe or comfortable. I was being a "wuss" like David said. I knew my weaknesses and I did not even try to improve myself. But this was my chance. 

I stood up without David's help this time and brushed the dirt off my trousers. Somehow this made me feel better. I stopped thinking of the failure of my trial, the thing that occurred in the forest or even of the worry that others might be watching. I wanted to give my all, to improve. To help the group, but also to leave a trial alive. I wanted a sense of achievement.

— Ready to try again? — he sounded like he already knew the answer. Did I look determined?

I gave him a bright smile in the form of a simple reply. We returned to the task that David set: the punch and evade. He did it slowly, careful not to push me too much when I was still processing the different possibilities. Somehow it was even enjoyable. How did this improve my mood so much? I doubt it was the act alone. It was David's charm. He may have looked like a brute at the start, but so often I saw his good side. He was caring, supportive and often ready to put himself in harm's way. 

He did not have to spend time to teach me. He chose to do so out of good will. Out of understanding that improving others, improves the survival rate of the group. Whilst some survivors chose the solo route, regardless of the trials always consisting of four survivors, David understood that he cannot do everything alone. He cannot fight the killers and repair the generators by himself.

— Well, that's that fer now — he stated not even looking as if the small exercise had an effect on him. I, on the other hand, panted and felt the sweat form on my forehead once again. — Do some exercises now and then before our next little session.

— Yes. — I took in a deep breath as my muscles burned with the effort — Thank you again.

— No problem lad — he patted my back and rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. — Promise me y'will get outta next one alive, 'key?

— Yes, I will do my best.

I stumbled feeling weak from the blood loss. I heard from the other survivors how deep this specific killer can cut, but when I saw his knife for the first time, I thought it was an over-exaggeration. Myers’ blade was far more threatening in its length although it reminded me of a simple kitchen knife. The Legion’s weapon was made for hunts, its jagged blade ripped flesh and veins as it left the body. Taking care of such wounds always took so much time, the blood flowed freely leaving larger trails which made it easier for the killer to follow. His speed was also horrifying. Combined with the ability to vault windows and pallets, he felt like an impossible opponent.

Compared to the other killers, he was able to wound multiple survivors at the same time. His tracking abilities were also impressive but terrifying. Considering all his strengths, I could not believe that it was I who was the last one alive at the end of the trial. All that was left was to find the hatch and I had to hurry if I wanted to be the first one there.

I kept on looking around the corners listening out for the hum of the alternative exit and the heartbeat of the killer. However, the silence was barely broken by the sound of my breathing and water dripping from the cracks in the ceiling. Léry's Memorial Institute was a difficult place to navigate. It felt like a maze, that would lead you back to where you started. Every room I passed made my anxiety grow. The killer had to have found the hatch by now, so why did he not close it? My mind told me to go towards the exit gates and hope that I can open them the moment they were powered, but my fears stopped me from doing so. With his speed, I had no chance to open the gate in time. I had to find the hatch.

Red-eyed rats squeaked as they scattered on the floor of the room that I entered. It caused me to jump back and out of the room, as I barely stopped myself from releasing a scream. Disgusting creatures born from the fog. Similarly to the crows, they were there only to watch from a distance and move when disturbed. It was almost as if the Entity itself watched through those red marbles in their black sockets. I preferred to keep my distance whenever possible.

I investigated the space that I was meant to enter. By now I must have passed through four of such room with no luck. There were not many left and only a few I dreaded to test. Like the treatment theater that was currently to my right. Could the hatch be there? If so, the killer must have found it by now, but chose not to close it for some reason. _Should I take a risk and enter such an exposed area?_ Something told me that I would have to.

I took a deep breath and passed the broken bars, as well as the guard’s post. I listened to my steps, as they echoed from the broken walls. The tone of the moving screens hanging in the center of the large room slowly grew louder, as the distance between us shrunk. I almost turned into the open space when I heard it, the hum of the hatch.

And the heartbeat of the killer.

I looked into the central point of the institute and quickly noticed the killer just standing there by the hatch. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed at his chest and the knife in hand. His masked face turned towards me, its grin possibly reflecting the facial expression of the person that hid behind it.

— Took you some time – the killer teased, his voice partially muffled by his ever-present accessory. It was the first time I ever heard a killer speak. I knew his voice from the little sounds he made during trials, but I never heard him form any words. I often wondered if they were even capable of speech, considering their inhuman bodies and minds. — You can have the hatch.

It sounded like a trick or a trap. Something to give me false hope. And it worked in its simple goal. I forced my body to take a step forward, but then he stopped me with a new line of words.

– You didn't expect I'd let you go for free, did you? First, you do something for me, then you get to leave. 

– And what is it that you want? – I asked, feeling stressed from the sole act of exchanging words.

**[NSFW part starts now]**

– Oh, I'm sure you can come up with something. – As he spoke, he shifted his right hand to his crotch, the knife slightly raised and pointing at me. The movement forced my eyes down before I looked back at his grinning mask. It was difficult to see his eyes, but I could feel them dig deep into my body. 

It was easy to understand what he meant and yet I paused for a longer time, as my mind repeated his words a few times. I gave a slight nod without further thought, feeling a tight knot form in my stomach. Was it really all that worth it?

His boot slipped from under the metal plate which could seal my only escape and he walked over to where I stood. His hands hanged lose at his sides, one of them still gripping the handle of the knife. _This could be a lie_, I thought. _He could kill me now or after, so why not just take the chance and run?_ But I knew that if I moved from my spot, my chance of escape would fall to zero and I would end up dead just like in the last trials. I felt the need to survive stronger than ever whilst the doubt grew proportionally. I felt that if I died in a few more trials, I would lose myself. The thought scared me much more than anything that the killer planned.

The Legionnaire stopped within arm’s reach, meaning that if I wanted to look into the eyes of his mask, I would have to slightly raise my head. I did not risk doing so and instead dropped my gaze to the ground. My body softly trembled from the closeness of the killer. I never thought that someday I would casually stand next to the one that hunted down and killed us repeatedly. It was unnerving, but when the rapid heartbeat faded from my ears, my mind gradually calmed with it. 

I saw him raise his left hand and I flinched out of habit, tightly closing my eyes. I expected the killer to grab me and push the blade deep into my chest, but instead, his bandaged hand caressed my cheek. His bare fingers felt cold on my skin and slowly I opened my eyes to look up unsure of his intentions. Those were made clear quite quickly when his hand moved upwards and painfully yanked my hair. I moved with his will, like a puppet on strings, and fell to my knees trying to ease the pull on my roots.

– So, what exactly will you do for me? – he teased further.

I could almost feel the smirk hidden away behind his mask. Once more I dropped my gaze to the floor beneath his feet. I could not force myself to speak, yet I also knew that I needed to provide him with an answer if I wanted to live. I swallowed down the lump that formed in my throat and raised my eyes just to the level of his belt. My hands trembled, as I reached for the button of his trousers and pushed it out of the tight gap before pulling down the zipper. The sound sealed my fate, it was too late to back away now and I did not want to risk angering him. Who knows what the consequences might have been if I had done so?

– Eager much, aren't you? I didn't even say you have to do it. It was your choice after all.

He was right. He did not say I have to do this. He simply provided hints to what he expected of me and rather than argue or offer something else, I willingly kneeled before him. This was all on me and the awareness did not bring any relief. It was not a lie that by now, I was ready to do anything in order to stop the killer from closing the hatch and hanging me from the hook.

I slightly lowered his trousers together with the underwear and left his belt above his hips. For a second I stared at his limp dick, as I clenched my teeth. My reaction was not necessarily that of disgust, although I was not necessarily pleased with the sight either. I could not properly explain my feelings towards staring at another man's bare crotch.

The killer pulled my face towards his body and pressed his member against my lips and cheek. An act which clearly communicated that I must not spend time observing and get to what I promised. No words were needed to convince me further and I licked at his length. I placed my hands on his hips and continued with the careful licks until finally the pressure on the back of my head loosened and I could do as I pleased.

I moved my head back and used my left hand to grip his length. Slowly I pumped him in my hand, the nausea increasing. The killer reacted to my touch and his member grew in my hand. Light reflected in the sharp blade when the Legionnaire moved it in a threatening way. He wanted more and the way he communicated it was easy to understand. _Do or die._

I bit my bottom lip before slightly opening my mouth and allowing his erection to slide between my lips. The salty, bitter taste came with no surprise, but it was not welcomed either. As I slid him further into my mouth, he brushed my hair aside to inspect my face closer. I looked up and saw his eyes stare down at me. It caused a shiver to run down my spine and I swallowed instinctively. 

– You stopped – he said in a demanding voice. 

Both his tone and his palm forced me to continue taking him further until I began to panic. He was asking too much of me and the fear of death was silenced when the realization of what was to come hit my brain. It was something I have never done and something I was not ready for.

– Relax, babe – he laughed. – If you puke on my shoes, you will lick it up.

The warming brought tears to my eyes. I should have never agreed to this. I should have- 

Hanged from a hook? That would have been so much worse than what was to come, and the hum of the opened hatch sang sweetly asking to continue what I promised.

I released his erection from my hand to take him further, but it was too much. A moan escaped the killer’s lips as I reached the point where taking in a breath felt impossible. My stomach clenched and my mind screamed for air even if it was not long since he pushed further than I could comfortably take. I tightly closed my eyes and tried to push him away. He did not allow it. He gripped my right hand and left me to claw at his thigh with the other. His left palm still on the back of my head kept me close to his body and at that time I only thought of biting down hard to make him let go. The fear stopped me from doing so. I feared his anger far more than choking.

Another push caused me to retch. My body's warning did not bother the killer and with a final push, he was fully within. I opened my eyes, hoping that he would understand and let go, but he no longer looked at me. His head was tilted back, the eyes on his mask unnoticeable.

– Shit, I should've done this sooner. Who'd know I’d actually get one of you to do this. Usually, you just ran away the moment I was seen – he chuckled.

Forcing my body to accept the foreign part was hard. All of the progress was shattered the moment he pulled back to slowly thrust back in. It earned him another gaging sound from myself, but it did not appear as if he was bothered by it. I felt tears well in the corners of my eyes and at the stage, I did not care if they would spill down my cheeks. Keeping the content down in my stomach was far more important. I feared that if it would come to worst, it would be my nose that it would come out of.

Too focused on trying to push him away, I did not attempt to pleasure him. The Legionnaire, however, took care of that himself. He pushed in deep forcing a choking sound out of me with every thrust. It was painful, but the worst came during his climax. He gripped my hair tight and fully sheathed his member in my throat, pressing my nose into his groin. I gaged and punched at him with my hand in an attempt to free my head.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled out of my mouth. I heaved and bent forward, spitting down a couple of times. The sudden movement made my forehead hit his legs, but neither of us cared. He took a couple of steps back and took care of his trousers, whilst I coughed and gasped with my hands on the floor. For a second I was afraid that he was going to close the hatch, but to my relief he did not.

I looked up and noticed his real smirk. The Legionnaire's mask was slightly raised showing half of his face below the bridge of his nose. He took out a packet of cigarettes and placed one of them between his lips before lighting its tip. I rose to my feet and massaged my throat, my face looking like a mess. The courage to move quickly returned and I attempted to walk around the killer, but he painfully grabbed my arm. A soft cloud of smoke left his lips, as he exhaled.

**[NSFW part ends here]**

– You better come prepared if you want to leave easy next time – it was not a threat, but rather a simple statement. An offer, after which he let go of my arm. I was free to enter the hatch in the ground and let the fog embrace me. Whilst I felt empty in a way different to when the Entity ripped my thoughts and feelings, I also felt… Relieved.

The moment I stepped out into the forest, I felt thick rain cool me down. I shivered and hugged my body tightly. I did not know if this was a sign of the Entity being displeased or just coincidence. Suddenly the victory felt sour, as regret crept into my mind. The realization of my act hit me at full force, causing my stomach to churn. I finally managed to leave alive, but at what cost? Should I really be satisfied with my escape?

I rubbed at my face with my sleeve when I noticed that I was not far from the light of the fire. Soon I stepped out onto the clearing and saw the other survivors sitting in the makeshift shelter of random plastic hanged from tall poles. They sat close to each other for warmth, some covered by the few blankets they managed to scavenge.

– Sam, come here quick! You're getting drenched! – Kate shouted over the rain, as she took the blanket off from her shoulders. 

Some of the other survivors looked my way and I hesitated. Stepping into the sheltered area meant being close to them. I felt dirty. I feared that if I got too close, they would know. They would find out what I had done to get out of that trial and they would hate me for it. But was there really a reason for hate? Would some of the others not do the same? I simply done what I could, so why should they be angry?

I did not want to act suspiciously. I did not need them to ask questions and so I jogged over to shelter myself from the rain.

– Ha! Y’made it! – David exclaimed cheerfully.

I managed to return his words with a soft smile.

– Yes, I made it.


	4. Samuel's past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There stood the star of my recent article. The white mask in a black hood. Black coat with long strips of material that floated unnaturally in the air like seaweed at the bottom of the ocean. The presented blade caught the flickering light and glistened regardless of the bloody spots it wore. Fear stopped me from moving. I was only able to stare at the mask which expression was frozen in an everlasting scream. A soft chuckle passed the white plastic, as the man's shoulders slightly shook.

— Are you losing your voice?

— Sorry? — I croaked.

— Yes, you are. Not good. I think you have caught a cold.

That was true. My throat did hurt since the last trial, but I never thought about the possibility of a basic cold. Could we even get sick in the realm? Well, considering how it was Claudette, one of the first survivors, saying so, then it must have been possible. Regardless, it was a good cover-up. Not that anybody would straight away think of t h a t, as a possible reason for the state of my voice.

— I did not feel the best since the rain — the strain of talking was surprising. It caused me to cough back and wince at the feeling of scratching in my throat.

Claudette gave me some of the water we collected and told me to take small sips occasionally. I felt bad about using the small supply we had, but she would have none of my excuses. Therefore, I thanked her and said that I will do as she says. After that Claudette kneeled next to one of the chests that were brought back from a realm by some of the other survivors and she looked through it. I did not understand what she was looking for until I saw a small bag in her hand.

— Boil some water when you are free and add in some salt. Once it cools down, you can wash your throat with it. It will not be pleasant in taste, but it will help… — For a second the botanist seemed to doubt her words but quickly continued whispering almost like she was afraid that the others would hear of how we were wasting the scarce resources. — It should help if it is bacterial. I don’t know anymore. Just try some. We can’t have you coughing in trials or spreading the cold to others.

With her last words, she gave a small smile and returned to sitting on her coat. The air was still damp from the rain meaning that even the logs in the sheltered part were somewhat wet. Luckily it was not a massive inconvenience, as we used the spare clothes to sit on.

Without a distraction to occupy my mind, my thoughts returned to the last trial. I looked into the fire, but my gaze was distant. The feeling of guilt spilled together with the warmth. I got away, whilst the others did not. I got away because of such a low act, not because of luck or skill. I chose to please the killer rather than die. Did this mean I had no self-worth? Was I betraying others in any way? My thoughts were conflicting. One part argued that there was nothing wrong with what I have done, the other screamed that it was a mistake. 

Why was I even worried about it? I did not have to tell others about my actions. Regardless of the situation, you do not talk about such private acts. _It was normal to have those needs. You are a normal human being who possibly hoped for something more pleasant in this world of pain. He did suit your taste, _my brain argued 

I wanted to scream out of frustration, my hand gripping tightly the bottle I held. My tenancy to overthink was getting the better of me and I still could not decide which side I should choose. Was this _logic over feelings_ or _logic over paranoia_? In a way, it felt like the later, but maybe that was just a thought to make myself feel better.

Before I could lose myself deeper in the vortex of growing anxiety, the sound of my name pulled me back. I looked towards Ace, who stared at me with his iconic grin.

— What's bothering you kid? I'm sure it's more than your throat. Come sit with me and share all of your troubles. Ace is always more than happy to listen.

_Shit_.

If Ace noticed that something was eating me from within, then others must have done so too. Were they just ignoring it or giving me space? Would either follow up with questions about my state? 

The sudden taste of blood snapped my mind away from the overload of thoughts. It appeared that I must have bit into my lip during the thought process. The ache allowed me to notice the lucky gambler patting the space next to him to empathize his words. I decided not to keep him waiting any longer and slowly made my way to the other side of the fire, away from the others. It was where Ace made his little corner with a table he possibly crafted from a chair. A good enough distance away from the hearing range. 

He shuffled his cards and started setting them as if we were about to start a game. I sat down on one of the smaller logs and simply stared at his hands, as they expertly moved the cards around. My stomach was clenched from the anticipation of what questions might be thrown at me, but Ace simply remained silent until the start of the game.

— You think you've done something bad kid, don't you? — He asked rhetorically in a hushed voice. — Truth be told there is no right or wrong. There is to live and to die. Whatever you have done, you've done it to survive. Now I won't be asking any questions otherwise, I'd have to start sharing all of my stories, but I can say that whatever is eating you would certainly not go down well with some of these guys and they would start lecturing you and blah blah blah. So just don't talk about it, forget it and if there is ever a situation that you have to repeat what you had done to get out of the mess, then you do _that_.

I looked up from his hand in an attempt to find any signs of deceit from the other's eyes, but as always, the most expressive part of his face was hidden behind his iconic dark sunglasses. Encouragement was not something I was expecting, but somehow it did make me feel somewhat lighter. I looked back down towards the cards and thought over his words. 

— Are you talking from experience there? — I gave my own question in reply.

— A life of gambling is never a safe one. But to learn something about me first, you have to say something about yourself — he stated with a sly smile. — There is still much you haven't said about yourself. So, come on then, spill your past. I heard it's easier once you do so.

I was not really in the mood to talk about my past, but at the same time, I felt that if I left Ace with nothing, it might lead to a bad outcome. I did not trust the man entirely, he followed profit and who knows what his long tongue might spill. Or to who. Also, there was the part where Ace did not like to give up and he would test his luck to see if I would give in. There was only one way to convince him against doing so.

— Fine. If you win the next round, I will tell you all that you want to know. Otherwise, you have to talk about your life before all of this.

— Looks like we got ourselves a deal — he flicked his cap with a grin painted on his face and collected the cards for a reshuffle.

I released a deep sigh and wiped my face with my hand. How could I have expected a different outcome? It was obvious that Ace would win, and he made sure to let it be known with a cheerful laugh. Now I had no excuse against indulging him with my past. Surprisingly it was not my life before the realm that he was truly interested in, but instead the last moments of my real life and the first of my new one.

I took a sip of the water and looked at the bare surface of the makeshift table. I needed to collect my thoughts, focus on the world before the realms. Somehow it felt so distant as if years have passed. I wished I knew the time and date to organize how long I had been here, but would that be of any help?

— That evening I chose to stay longer at work. It was hard to come up with a new story that would be interesting enough to sell, but I had to do just that. I _had to_ write something. Anything. — I paused to take another couple of sips. My eyes never left the scratch in the wood, as I felt like talking about myself and looking at Ace would make me lose my confidence.

_At the time there were little coverage worthy stories and the whole town still lived the past of Ghost Face’s murders. Everybody wanted to read about the arrest of Jed Olsen, who disappeared into thin air. My previous article was a success and now I was back to minor topics such as a rat plague or bushfires caused by the current heatwave. It was the latter that I was covering, but it felt lifeless. The readers wanted chilling news of death. A couple of burned houses and a reminder to stay hydrated was just not enough. They wanted a sensation. Something I could not provide._

_I passed on my work and prepared myself to leave the building. As soon as I left the front door, I felt the rush of hot air hit my body. I wiped the already forming sweat off my forehead and stared at the soft fog drifting across the road. The sun was already setting, but it was a peaceful scenery. Nothing abnormal for that time of the year or so I thought. _

_I rested my hands into the pockets of my trousers and walked back home at a steady pace. I may have been hungry at the time, but I was in no hurry. I always enjoyed my walks. They were not long, as I lived close to my workplace, and so the added haste was not needed. Maybe if I returned home sooner that day, the Entity would not drag me away. Or maybe it would still find a different way to do so._

_The moment I stepped into the park, the fog thickened almost unnaturally. The sky and my surroundings darkened quicker than they should, but I chose to ignore it. Nobody thinks of such things as being the signs of what was to come. Weird things sometimes j u s t happen, and they pass soon enough._

_By the time I was halfway across the park, the fog was choking all of the light sources. At that point, it reminded me more of smoke from the wildfires, rather than of fog, but it had no specific smell to it. With every passing second, I felt my panic increasing. _

_The fog engulfed not only light but sounds too. Everything went quiet and for what felt like an eternity I walked through nothing. Until it suddenly parted, just as I left the park. I recognized the street in front of me as my own, but it was not supposed to be there. There was still more distance to be covered before I would be even able to see it, let alone walk it._

_Whilst I could see again, the sounds were still missing and so was the sunlight. I could not hear the traffic, which should be there at this hour. Nobody walked past me and instead of a setting sun, I saw a full moon and unblinking stars. The lamps provided less light than usual and a couple of them at the end of the street flickered ominously. I peeked over my shoulder and stared into the park which I blindly crossed just a couple of seconds ago. Nothing made sense._

_I looked ahead once more and took on a hastier pace. Standing still would not explain the situation and moving felt right. Like I could not just stay in one spot. A part of me was convinced that this was just a hallucination. A play of the tired mind. I was not sleeping well at the time, I was also overworked and possibly slightly dehydrated. But then again, would it not be only a single sound or an image that would be out of place and not the whole neighborhood? It was what my mind focused on, but maybe if I just looked around instead, I would have noticed that the houses were, in fact, different; empty, with boarded-up windows and lacking front doors._

_I did not stop until I reached my own house. I was shocked to find the front window boarded up, another one lacking any glass and the front doors simply missing. I forced myself to enter the somehow unfamiliar building that I owned and inspected the living room. The sofa stood in its usual spot, the lamp next to it flickered at the same pace as the chandelier as if they were losing power. The bookcase now stood empty, the floor broken in some places, the paint breaking off as if all was aged even though I had been there during the morning of the same day._

_Like always the open plan kitchen was located to my left, yet now the cupboards stood open and empty. Although I always took great care to keep my house clean, a layer of dust covered every surface together with sporadic rot and mold._

_I nervously bit my lip in an attempt to give a logical reason as to why I was seeing this, but there was none. No matter how I looked at it, it was my home! So why was it in such a state, why was everything so different? I simply could not understand and in my confusion, I did not notice how cold it became compared to the heat I felt before, how my hairs stood on the back of my neck or how the heartbeat grew louder in my ears. It was not until I felt someone's eyes on me, that I finally turned around towards the entrance to my house._

_There stood the star of my recent article. The white mask in a black hood. Black coat with long strips of material that floated unnaturally in the air like seaweed at the bottom of the ocean. The presented blade caught the flickering light and glistened regardless of the bloody spots it wore. Fear stopped me from moving. I was only able to stare at the mask which expression was frozen in an everlasting scream. A soft chuckle passed the white plastic, as the man's shoulders slightly shook._

I rubbed my face and looked at the bottle. It turned out that during my story I had managed to empty it of all the water. It was somewhat easier to speak now, but still not good enough to continue such a long tale. I did not feel like I wanted to continue regardless of the state of my throat.

— And the rest you know. I was in a trial not knowing what to do or how to do it. I died and woke up in the forest. I found my way to the camp. I met you guys. 

— You're missing quite a lot of detail there.

I finally looked up at his smiling face, confused as to what he was implying. My story was as detailed as it could get. It was my clearest memory from before the fog.

— What you forgot to mention is that you died that trial before the exit gates were powered. You learned after that how to repair the gens. Sure, you blow them up from time to time, but so do I. You live a lot longer now, even if you don't get out as much. You _are_ improving. Yes, the last escape was not through the use of the skills that some of the others possess — he laughed at those words — but you did get out. No rules are stating how you do it. To be fair there are no rules at all! I don't see them at least.

Ace paused and for a short while he simply shuffled his cards in silence. The survivor either wanted to give me time to absorb the information or expected me to say something. But currently, I had nothing to say.

— Just give it some more time. You will improve further, just give it time! Focus on your mistakes and find ways around them. Just don't give up is what I'm trying to say. And stop feeling so bad about it.

I bit the tip of my finger, as I rested my head on my right hand. It was surprising to see Ace trying so hard to pick up the mess I was becoming. He was not a bad person, he just never really showed interest in supporting others. Or maybe I just didn't take notice of it.

— Thank you. I guess you are right — I finally replied, as I placed my hands on my knees before standing up. 

— I am always right — he chuckled and laid down his cards. — Come back anytime you need a chat or just a game.

— Will do — I waved and walked back towards the fire.

Claudette was no longer in her spot, possibly taken into a trial, Quentin looked like he was close to collapsing, Nea and Meg were laughing quietly to each other about something that they conversed on and Bill just smoked his cigarette whilst watching the flames. I knew that if I looked towards the edge of the forest, I would see Jake leaning against a tree and Dwight attempting to repair one of the tents. It was peaceful, normal. For once I noticed that everyone just got on with their new lives trying to make the most of it.

I could not tell if this was a sign of them giving up or maybe of simple acceptance. Because what could we do instead? There was no way to fight the Entity, at least none that we knew of. There was no way of fighting the killers, we were much weaker than them. We could only focus on resting between trials and not letting it all get to us.

I sat down on the log and stared into the fire thinking back to my first trial. Unaware of the realms and their rules, forced to fight for my survival by a being that I knew nothing of. It came with no surprise that some of the new survivors rather than find their way to the fire, found themselves in a trial. The Entity was never benevolent. It possibly did not care for our feelings, maybe had none of its own. 

Sometimes there were lucky few that came across another survivor when in their starting trial. They received vague information on what was happening, were told to follow and do as the others, hide when they heard the heartbeat and run when noticed by the killer. Many thought it a joke or a story made up by a drunk or a drugged mind. Quickly they realized that it was all true.

But I was not one of them. The first person I came across was the one hunting us down. The killer who I knew so well from my past life. The one with whom I was taken by the Entity at the same time. The memory still made me shiver, even though over time I got used to his presence in the trials.

_— Hello Sam._

_He greeted me as if we were passing each other in the corridor of our workplace and I did not reply. Like a tight nose, the fear clenched my throat and made it impossible to speak or even breathe. It did not bother him. He moved his hand towards his face and removed the screaming mask revealing a smirk._

_— I greatly enjoyed your work on my disappearance. Although I must say, I do feel a little bit underappreciated. Maybe if you experienced the kills from the side of the victims... — he paused for a short second, looking towards the knife in his hand — then you would understand how much work I have placed into each of my kills._

_Knowing what was to come did not calm my mind. It only increased my fears. I felt my stomach clench to the point of nausea and cold sweat cover my back. Instinctively I began retreating, taking steps backward whilst my eyes were still glued to the killer. He mirrored my movement, although his steps brought him forwards, closer towards me._

_— I-I will call the p-police — I stuttered, unable to make my threat sound serious. — I am aware of your presence… And-_

_A laugh stopped the words from leaving my mouth. I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, whilst I desperately held to the hope that this was just a realistic dream. A nightmare of an overworked mind far too focused on the murder stories._

_— You still haven't realized where you are, have you? There is no police to call and you can scream all you like, but nobody will hear you. There is nothing you can do to stop me._

_I was aware of the sick kind of pleasure he must have gained from my lack of understanding. With each word he was getting closer, the sound of his heavy boots deafened by the beating of the heart. I wasted no time and dashed through the empty doorframe located behind me. My bedroom door was just opposite of the entrance to the hallway and whilst there would be nothing to defend myself with inside of the room, I needed to form a barrier between the two of us._

_I grabbed the doorknob and it remained in place even though I kept on frantically twisting it. There was no reason for it to be that way, no lock and key to block my path of escape. Why did nothing work as it should?_

_My lips parted in a pained scream, as the blade was skillfully forced into my back. Its owner pushed my body into the wood and twisted the knife receiving another scream from me in the process. The pain was paralyzing and the only thing keeping me upright was the person standing behind me._

_— You have no idea how pleasurable it would be for me to pull the blade out and push it back in, bathe in your pretty little screams. — His body shuddered, whilst he pulled his knife out from my body. — But that would be against the rules._

_The blood now flew easily and holding back the grunts of pain felt impossible. It was as if someone kept on digging their fingers into my wound and once I lost the support of the other body, the unbearable pain pushed me to my knees._

_I could hear him swiping the crimson off from his blade and positioning his mask back in its place. Once he was done, he gripped the back of my shirt and twisted my body towards him, to pull me over his shoulder. The stretch of skin on my back sparked another wave of pain and made me clench my jaw. I had no idea what his plan, but I knew it would lead to further pain and so instinctively I punched and kicked feeling a new wave of adrenaline brought forth by panic. I did not want to find out where he was carrying me to. I just wanted to break free of his grasp._

_Somewhere in the distance, an unknown sound of a repaired generator rang. For me, the noise had no real meaning other than that it must have been made by another person. It filled me with the hope of being saved, but that hope was quickly washed away by pain far worse than the one I felt before. I stared in shock at the metal spike that poked out beneath my collar bone and felt tears fill my eyes. It was all too much. The content of my stomach rose to my throat, the unpleasant feeling mixing in with the sudden difficulty to breathe._

_My vision blurred, but I could still see him just standing there in front of me, observing his work. A sudden need to fight back birthed at the back of my brain forcing my shaky hands to reach up and hold onto the hook. I kicked out, aiming for his masked face, but he moved back and away from my attack, chuckling at my weak attempt. Another sound of a completed machine filled the space around us, but it was his words that I was far more focused on._

_— Come on honey, try that one more time. I dare you - the venom dripped from his tongue and I was too far gone to realize that my movements, like a thrashing seal that attracts the shark, called upon a greater being._

_Ignoring the pain that rippled with every move I kicked and desperately tried to pull myself off from the hook. Of course, it was one of my many mistakes. Only once fully materialized, have I noticed the crab-like limbs that seemed to grow out of the meat hook's stand. My eyes widened at the sight and my hands froze over my head, still grabbing onto the metal rod._

_— Sammy, meet the owner of this world — the killer introduced darkly with a possible grin beneath the screaming mask._

_The largest of appendixes pulled back and I screamed in terror. I wanted to grab a hold of it, do anything to stop it from getting closer, but it pushed down with unnatural speed and pierced my chest, blocking any remaining sounds from escaping my lips. My limbs fell to my sides like those of a marionette whose strings were cut off and all of the pain was being washed away whilst my body was lifted into the sky. It was my first experience of death and one of many that would come after._


End file.
